


A Work of Art

by Rinn the Small Boy (MasterKathy)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, because combeferre deserves love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterKathy/pseuds/Rinn%20the%20Small%20Boy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because, in reality, all Marlie wants is to make Combeferre happy. Sadly, things don't always work out in their favour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Work of Art

Chapter One  
All I Wanted Was Some Coffee

Please go faster. Please go faster. Please, I am begging you, you fucking clock, if you don’t move your fucking hands a little faster- Rinnnnnnnnng! I shove my notebook and thick copy of Latin for Dummies into my backpack, and push back my chair to rush from the classroom. Don’t get me wrong, college so far has been great, but today is Friday, and I have a prompt due for my writing blog, and all I want is some coffee, preferably some sugary drink that can keep me awake for nine hundred consecutive hours.  
And I know just the place.  
The ABC Café, not too far from campus, but hidden enough that no one really notices it, instead opting to head to the local Starbucks, which is gross. Watching the employees there make coffee is sad; they don’t love and appreciate the way they should. I shove in my earbuds as I move swiftly across the crosswalk, and flick through the artists on my phone. 

The door is closed, as opposed to propped open like usual. It’s finally October, and that special chill in the air is finally here, and it’s sweater weather, which makes me a happy camper. I turn down the volume and open the door, smiling when the little bell rings, signaling a new customer. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, and the armchair in the corner is calling to me like a sweet song.  
“Hey Marls!” a voice sounds from behind the counter.  
I turn and smile. “J. Prouv! Hello darling!”  
Jean Prouvaire, also known as Jehan to his friends (I suppose I am included in that category), is probably the most kind person I have ever met in my life. We met through a mutual poetry class at the university, in which he excelled and I had much to learn. Once a week we would meet, and he would help me with poetic muse, and then we started to hang out outside of that, and now we’re here. Today, his thick, strawberry blonde hair is braided and slung over his shoulder, intertwined with daisies. And he’s wearing lipgloss; it smells like orange crème.  
He leans across the wood to swipe his lips against my temple. “You look gorgeous today, Marlie. Well, I mean, you’re always gorgeous, but this is fantastique.” Oh, Jehan and his French. “I’m guessing you want me to surprise you, which is totally fine, because I know your type, honey, not only in coffee, but in general.”  
I roll my eyes. “I know, Jehan. Hey, how are things going with Courfeyrac? You haven’t talked about him in a while.”  
He chatters while his hands move, freckled hands making something that looks as though it contains caramel, java chips, and mint. Oh my gosh. “Anyways, Courf is taking me to see Guys and Dolls tomorrow, which makes him probably the greatest boyfriend to ever grace this fine earth, and tonight we have the me- Oh! Marlie! Do you want to come to the meeting tonight? It starts in an hour.”  
“What meeting?”  
A gasp. “I haven’t told you about the meetings? What do you mean? I really haven’t?”  
“No?”  
“It’s me and Courfeyrac and Enjolras, you remember Enjolras, right? Anyways, basically, Enjolras is a huge political activist, and Les Amis, that’s our organization, marches and rallies and protests and discusses issues. It’s more fun than it sounds, I promise! Will… will you come?” He’s looking at me with huge eyes. How could I resist that?  
I sigh. “I suppose so. I’ll just hang around in my armchair until then.”  
“Thank you thank you thank you!”

I tend to lose myself, in moments like these. Boots off, feet tucked up beneath me as I read. The armchair is larger than most, a dark, worn corduroy, perfect for snuggling deep down and sipping at your caramel mint java macchiato and gazing at familiar words and sentences and phrases, things you’ve read a million times, but they are words that never grow old. In case you’re wondering, the book in question is Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.  
Jehan seats himself at my feet. I finish the page before shutting the book and tugging at his braid. Courfeyrac is next to him, their fingers jumbled together.  
“So, you’re staying?” Courfeyrac asks anxiously.  
I shrug. “I might as well. It sounds interesting, to say the least.”  
Enjolras is just as freaking majestic as I remember him to be. We’ve had classes together, but nothing major, and while he’s the type to constantly question every little thing the teacher says, I stay quiet in the back with my journal, only ever half-listening. But I am interested in politics, especially those controversial issues that Enjolras is so concerned about. His curly blonde mane is pulled back in a ponytail, thick-rimmed black glasses pushed up to the top of his nose. He’s muttering pitifully to himself, another man beside him trying to calm him down.  
“C’mon, meeting’s starting.”  
“Oh, looks like we have a new person joining up today.” Enjolras sounds tired, the words forced. “Hello Marlie. Everyone, this is Marlie St. Clair, she goes to Uni with us. Marlie, this is… well, I’m sure you already know most everyone there is to know. Well, today we need to discuss the upcoming Gay Rights Rally, what you all think we should do for the event. I, of course, am working on my speech.”  
Grantaire snorts. “Of course you are, Apollo.”  
Enjolras’s eyes grow large, and then he huffs. “You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to be, Grantaire. You can leave and drink your life away elsewhere.”  
“Oh hush. Jolras, keep talking. ‘Taire, stop being an asshat,” Joly says, always the voice of reason. Enjolras blushes at both nicknames, which is in his nature, and he adjusts his glasses before continuing.

My eyes keep drifting, surprisingly, to the man whom Enjolras was conversing with before. He is one of the few I do not know in this group, although he looks familiar, but that doesn’t mean anything. When it comes to a thing like university, you see so many people, and sometimes faces just stick in your brain.  
He’s really tall, and a bit gangly, but he’s not skinny, not around his middle, which is beautiful on so many levels. His nose is a little bit for his face, and his hands are, from what I can see, massive, and his feet are the same. The hair on his head is shaggy, and mousy brown, which is reminiscent of Remus Lupin, which is so unbelievably attractive. And I know him from somewhere. Where do I know him from?  
I lean over to whisper in Jehan’s ear. “Who is that man? Next to Enjolras?”  
“Oh? That’s ‘Ferre, or Combeferre. In the way Enjolras is more leader, Combeferre is the right hand man of the operation. He is this crazy, insanely smart researcher, and he’s known Jolras since they were kids.” He turns to look at me. “Why are you asking?”  
“I’m curious. I don’t know everyone here. Plus…” I look around to make sure no one’s watching us, before whispering, “He reminds me of Lupin.”  
Courfeyrac gasps quickly. “I ship it!” He grasps my hands in his. “You and ‘Ferre… oh my gosh, you two would be so nerdy and cute together. The compatibility is electrifying!”  
Jehan tsked. “Oh Courf, they haven’t even been properly introduced yet.”  
“Doesn’t matter! I know compatibility when I see it!”  
I turn my attention back to Enjolras, and the boy, Combeferre, and all of a sudden, I have never wanted more to be a part of something. I think perhaps I’ve fallen in too deep, too fast, but you have to admit, at least I turned to political activism as opposed to cocaine or hard liquor. When the meeting is finally over, I walk towards Enjolras, a smile on my face.  
He turns around and cocks his head to one side. “Hello, Marlie. I was surprised to see you tonight. It’s been awhile. How’ve you been?”  
“I’ve actually been really well, Enj. My life has been a little easier, without you around to harass all of the professors in my classes.” I sip at my coffee. “Anyways, I liked the meeting. Very informative. Just letting you know that I’ll probably be showing up again. And, also, anything I can help you with? Because, no offense, but you look as if you haven’t slept in ages.”  
“Well, isn’t that the truth?” Combeferre says suddenly. “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Combeferre, the right hand man. Enj, she’s right. You haven’t slept in almost six days.” He looks at me, golden amber eyes twinkling. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’m sure Enjolras would just be so appreciative if you could research queer characters in literature. Right, Enj?”  
“Now that is something you know I’m good at, Enjolras. So don’t you dare try and stop me. Oh, I’m Marlie, by the way.” I stick my hand out, and when his hand grasps mine, there’s not much I can do but smile. “Nice to meet you.”  
Enjolras nods. “Okay, I guess that would be alright. You still have my email, Marlie?”  
“No, I threw it away.” That evokes a choice glare. “Yes, I still have your email, and yes, I will email the research to you.”  
“Thank you.”

My apartment is small, but cozy, with two bedrooms and a quite large bathroom, and a kitchen that is constantly filled with food, because both Cosette and I cook and bake on a regular basis, and our living room has a television, yes, but also books and books and books, covering the walls and the side tables by the sofa and the coffee table and even the window seat.  
It’s morning, and while I’m playing around on my blog (I finished the research last night for Enj and, let me tell you, from the sound of his reply, he was impressed). Cosette is making chocolate chip pancakes, with extra chocolate, because “You can never have enough chocolate, Marlie!” Her light blonde hair is piled on top of her head, and she’s humming loudly, as always. She is my best friend, and I adore her.  
“How many do you want?” she asks.  
“Uh, three is good for now.”  
“Butter and syrup?”  
“Of course.”  
She drops the plate down in front of me, along with a fork and knife. “Eat. You can blog more later, I promise.”  
I push the laptop away, and pull the food closer, while folding my knees closer to my chest. “Thank you for breakfast, Cosey. I love you, and your face.”  
Cosette rolls her eyes before dropping down in the seat beside me. “So, Marls, you didn’t finish telling me about Mr. Dreamy Lupin Face, and I expect a whole rundown now.” She sips at her tea, and I just stare at her. “Marls! Talk about him!”  
“I really don’t know all that much about him, Cosey. He’s gorgeous, to be honest, and he has to be smart, incredibly so, if he’s best friends with Enjolras. And he just has this aura around him, y’know? Hell, Cosey, he was drinking hot chocolate the other night. HOT CHOCOLATE. He had like nine cups of it. Jehan kept giggling as he refilled his mug. He had a hot chocolate mustache. No one has ever liked chocolate like I do.” I fiddle with my fork. “And now Courf is going to try pushing us together, and I really don’t want that to happen, because you know how Courfeyrac gets. I have told you about him.”  
“Wow. That was a lot of information in a short amount of time.”  
I sigh. “I know. Trust me, I know.”  
“But you know what? If you think this might be something, pursue him. Do it.”

And you know what.  
Just this once, when it comes to relationship advice, I think Cosette might be right. 

A week passes slowly. When I walk into the ABC Café after my Tuesday biology lab, he’s sitting at a table in the back, surrounded by books and looking incredibly tired. I walk up to the counter, and instead of Grantaire it’s Jehan that’s working.  
“Two hot chocolates, one with a shot of espresso please?” I whisper to him, trying not to disturb Combeferre, who is now on the verge of falling asleep.  
“Why, Marlie, why do I feel as though you’re onto something great?”  
I smile and hand him the money. “Two brownies as well, please? And sh.” With the reinforcements, I walk over to the table and carefully nudge his knee with my foot. He jerks awake. “Hey there, stranger.”  
“Marlie… Hi….” He quickly tries to make some semblance of the mess before him and blushes. “I was just…. Studying. Lots to do, and all that.”  
I nod in understanding, a smile twirking at my lips. “Well, it looks as though your methods are not working out all that well.” Looking between the cups of coffee, I take the one with the espresso shot and hand it to him. He looks confused. “It’s hot chocolate. Well, it also has espresso in it, because I noticed you drooling on your textbook. Also, a brownie, because when was the last time you ate something?”  
“Uhm, probably…. Thank you.” He sips at the hot chocolate and smiles happily. “This is really good. Would you like to sit down? I could make room.”  
I laugh. “Okay, Combeferre. That would be lovely.”


End file.
